


And For A Moment I Forget Just How Dark And Cold It Gets

by codenametargeter



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cute maybe?, F/M, Let's go with hopefully cute, i don't even know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-18 01:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20630966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenametargeter/pseuds/codenametargeter
Summary: Krem thought that Skinner and Dalish were just being little shits when they made cracks about the Champion of Kirkwall being interested in him. He's never been happier to be wrong.





	And For A Moment I Forget Just How Dark And Cold It Gets

**Author's Note:**

> You know you wrote something niche when you have to make the ship tag. Anyways, this technically stands alone but I guess technically I do know what inspired it since it takes place after [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20085895) fic but you probably don't need to read it to follow this one. I just really love both of them and want to have moments of happiness even though the world might be ending.

The first thing Krem noticed was how Dalish and Skinner kept nudging each other and pretending like they weren’t staring at him as they whispered in between drill sets. “Do I have something on my face?” he finally asked.

“Maybe the Champion of Kirkwall if you play your cards right,” Skinner just barely managed to say before bursting into laughter.

Krem didn’t even bother trying to rein in a sigh. He loved being a part of the Chargers and a part of what felt like one big family some days instead of just a mercenary company, he really did. Wouldn’t trade it for all of Thedas. But sometimes, he wanted to strangle them. “What’s that supposed to mean? She’s not even here.”

He regretted the words the second they were out of his mouth.

“Got here a few hours ago. Saw her when I was practicing my… archery up on the walls,” Dalish said. 

“I’m sure she’ll be busy with the Inquisitor and her Inner Circle.”

“Chief invited her to come down for drinks later.”

“How do you know that?” 

Skinner just gave him a look. 

“Right, sorry.”

Dalish butted in again. “Bull thinks she’s interested in you.”

Now he really couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “The Chief doesn’t know everything.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Krem hefted his shield. “Come on, we’re supposed to be drilling. Let’s get to it. Can’t let those former Templars show us up.”

Once they all started trying to mock kill each other again, all thoughts of the Champion of Kirkwall vanished from his mind. There just wasn’t the time to think about when she’d gotten into a drinking contest with all of them the last time she’d visited and drunk most of them under the table and how it’d been the first time he’d ever seen her look relaxed and actually noticed her for her. Beneath the burden she carried, she was still a woman and an attractive and charming one at that. He definitely absolutely had no time to think about the glint in her eye right before she said something witty. He was  _ busy _ . In fact, she didn’t cross his mind again (mostly) until after the Chargers (including the Iron Bull) had taken up their usual table in the Herald’s Rest that night and everyone already had drinks in their hands. 

“Hawke!” the Iron Bull bellowed as the tavern door swung open. “You’re here!”

“Of course I am,” Hawke said, with just a hint of a smirk that seemed to be her default expression. “You promised me a party. Who could possibly say no to that?”

From beside the qunari, Dorian dryly said, “I could.”

Bull smirked. “You’re a terrible liar, ‘Vint.” He turned towards Cabot and raised his voice. “Cabot! An ale for the Champion!”

As Cabot handed her a tankard, Hawke said, “Thanks, Bull. I could use one after today.” 

“No kidding.” He gestured towards the tables. “Take a load off. Chargers, no challenging her to a drinking contest this time! She’s gotten in enough trouble today.”

“You never let us have any fun,” Dalish grumbled. 

“Maybe next time,” Hawke said before glancing around the room, pausing once she made eye contact with Krem. 

He toasted her with his tankard and said, “Champion,” sounding far calmer than he actually felt, “good to see you again.” 

To his surprise, she took the seat across from him. “You too, Lieutenant Aclassi.” 

She was one of the few people who actually used his rank. It sounded good coming from her lips. _ Keep it together, Aclassi. She’s just being nice _ . “What’d the Chief mean about trouble?”

The surprises continued when she flushed red. “Oh. I uhh…” This was not the usually smooth talking Champion of Kirkwall he was used to. “I almost caused a diplomatic incident but it’s fine now. Mostly?”

“Don’t want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather drink three tankards of the Hanged Man’s worst ale.”

Krem chuckled. It sounded like a story he’d end up hearing from someone later. “Right then. So what brings you here?”

“Skyhold or the Herald’s Rest?”

“Both.”

Hawke took a drink of ale. “The short version is that it was on my way back from Weisshapt and I thought I might as well deliver my messages personally. And I’m here in the Rest because the Iron Bull promised me a decent party.”

Both of Krem’s eyebrows shot up. “He did?”

“And if it’s not twice as exciting as that affair in the main hall, I’ll be terribly disappointed and never trust the Bull ever again.”

Oh. He knew that look. Kaffas. Krem swallowed some ale to buy himself some time. “You should know that the Chief’s open door policy isn’t all that open anymore.” 

“Anyone with eyes can see that,” Hawke said dryly, both of their gazes moving towards where the Iron Bull sat with a lapful of Tevinter altus. “Good for them. They both deserve to be happy.” 

Krem just nodded in response, trying his best not to think too much about any of this, especially how the tavern’s candlelight made her dark hair shine. “So. A party then?” 

“As long as we can both actually remember the night tomorrow morning,” Hawke said with a wink. “Wouldn’t want to forget a second.”

He blinked and then frowned ever so slightly. Was she… had Dalish and Skinner been… No. Surely he must be misinterpreting things. The Champion of Kirkwall wasn’t flirting with him. 

He must have stayed silent too long because now Hawke looked worried as she said, “Sorry, did I overstep? I do that sometimes. Too much of Isabela’s influence.” 

“No,” Krem started carefully before running out of words which was saying something since he knew three languages.

“You should probably know,” Hawke said just as carefully but with definite intent, “that I asked the Iron Bull if his handsome lieutenant would be here before I said I’d come down here tonight.” 

If he was very lucky, his complexion was hiding his blush but he had a feeling he wasn’t nearly that lucky. “The last time I checked, I was the Chargers’ only lieutenant.” 

“I know.” 

The only reasonable response to her loaded words and heated look was clearly to drink more of his awful Fereldan ale. 

Hawke’s nose crinkled. “I’m not being subtle, am I?” Krem shook his head. “I must have left it all back in Kirkwall.”

“Judging by the book, I’m not sure you had it there either.”

There were a handful of perfect moments where Hawke’s face went from shock to amusement to laughter. “Oh you’ve read it, have you?” 

“Skinner read bits of it to us around the camp fire.”

“Including--”

“Yep.”

“Fuck.”

In a moment of brash confidence, Krem grinned. “Wasn’t that the idea?” 

She didn’t look shocked this time and just smiled in a way that definitely sparked something inside him. “Assuming you’re interested.”

He forced himself to inhale and then exhale slowly before responding, “Let’s see where the night takes us?”

Almost immediately, her smile broadened. “That works for me.”

The night, it turned out, took them outside of the Herald’s Rest with Krem pushing the Champion of Kirkwall up against the wall as they kissed. She might have been the one with her back against the wall but she still managed to be aggressive with her kisses, hands somehow finding something on his armor to grab on to and pulling him towards her. Not that he was putting up a fight or anything. Dalish and Skinner had definitely seen them slip out of the tavern together but their inevitable teasing was a price woth paying. Hawke kissed like she fought: passionately and with purpose. 

“Was this what you had in mind?” Hawke asked when they paused to catch their breaths. The sounds of music and chatter from inside the tavern got louder for a moment as someone opened the door but quickly returned to a dull murmur a few moments later.

The corner of his mouth pulled upwards. “Honestly, Champion, I didn’t really let myself think this far ahead. I’m still trying to figure out why me.”

Her head hit the wall with a soft  _ donk _ . “Okay, one: you’ve got to stop calling me that if you’re going to have your tongue halfway down my throat again. I do have a name.”

He nodded but she kept looking at him expectantly. “Hawke then.”

That seemed to do the trick. “And two, because I like you, Krem.” He thought she’d stop there but she kept talking which, really, he probably should have expected. “You’re handsome, you’re fun to drink with, and I’m dying to know what your arse looks like out of that armor.” The last probably shouldn’t have made him snort but it did anyways but he sobered up a moment later as she kept talking. “And because I trust you. That counts for a lot with me in this stupid, stupid world.”

For the second time that evening, he found himself at a loss for words and simply managed, “Oh.” Hawke leaned forward and planted a kiss at the corner of his mouth, the gesture quieter and calmer than anything else they’d done since the first hesitant press of lips. He cleared his throat. “That’s uhh a lot to live up to.” 

Hawke grinned, the glint in her eyes the only warning he had that she was about to break the tension with something ridiculous. “I’m sure your arse is up to the task.”

He was still laughing when he leaned forward to kiss her again. 

In between increasingly heated kisses, Krem managed to whisper the start of a sentence he hated having to say every damn time he got involved with someone, “You know that I’m… uhm…”

“Yeah. That’s not a problem for me,” Hawke said as she ran a hand through his hair and pulled ever so lightly. He wasn’t sure which feeling he liked better. “You just have to tell me what you want.” 

“You.”

In response, Hawke yanked him closer, tongue sliding against his lips before he parted them. As far as kisses went, it felt filthy especially once her hands dropped to his arse. He wasn’t about to complain though. They were both breathing heavily by the time they broke apart and he could already feel his own arousal in his smalls. She fixed him with a look and said, “I’m serious, Krem. I don’t want to fuck this up.” 

“Shirt can come off but my binder stays on,” he rattled off, “and the rest is best said when we’re both wearing a lot less clothes.”

“Your quarters or mine?”

He was savvy enough to realize she was giving him the power here to say how this night might go and it made him like her just that much more. “Mine.”

Hawke captured his lips again in another kiss before releasing him. “Lead the way then, Lieutenant.” 

Yeah. This was going to be one hell of a story. Just hopefully one that didn’t end up in Varric Tethras’s next book. 


End file.
